


one single thread of gold tied me to you

by sourhell



Category: Normal People (TV 2020), Normal People - Sally Rooney
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:42:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26991595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourhell/pseuds/sourhell
Summary: Connell and Marianne videocall once he is in New York.
Relationships: Marianne Sheridan/Connell Waldron
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	one single thread of gold tied me to you

New York was a city that engulfed you, and if you were lucky, you could fall with ease into her. Connell had a hard time adjusting to the fast pace that everyone in the city appeared to be in sync with. It was nothing like Dublin or even remotely near to what Carricklea felt like.

Connell could not help missing having people who cared for him, real friends like Niall and someone who could look into his eyes and know what he needed when he was completely lost, like Marianne. He wasn’t completely alone all the time: people would waltz more often than not into his life at parties of people he vaguely knew hosted, and he would sometimes feel like he clicked with someone like there was a real connection. The next day realization would fall upon him that alcohol and drugs helped everyone to seem like your new best friend. The fact was that the anxiety that he would feel in social situations was very real, but when he talked to Marianne over his computer screen or through his phone, this anxiety was a paler colour. It wasn’t really gone, no. But it was bearable. He tried to join several clubs at the university that could result in making friends with similar interests but the effort that Connell did was really minimal.

He missed Ireland: knowing that wherever he went he wouldn’t stand out and could be nobody, everyone already knew him or wasn’t that interested in him anyways. In New York, he could also be nobody, but in the end, he would pike the interest of someone, and he would have to introduce himself, admit that inevitably he was _seen_ by other people. His anxiety did not help with this process.

When Connell left, Marianne and he decided that they wouldn’t make promises but that they would be truthful to each other: no more lies and no more misunderstandings. Or at least they would die trying. They were both free to find someone else that could help to ease the loneliness and the heart-wrenching feeling that nobody in the world could ever understand you, truly. But the reality was that they did not want that. They had tried before and failed. Soulmates did not exist, but Connell and Marianne had found each other and had been dancing around their relationship for years, and everyone else was like elevator music to them.

One night, when eight months and a half had passed since Connell and Marianne were no longer together (nor in the same physical space), Connell declared through the computer screen:

\- I’m going home. This has been nice and all, but I need to go home.

\- Have you told your _mam_ already? - Marianne asked while sipping into her glass of wine, oblivious to the implications of what Connell just said.

\- It’s not the biggest of my worries.

\- Why not? Are you not going to stay with her?

\- Actually, no. I was telling you because I really should know if you will welcome me to your apartment before I buy the plane tickets. – Connell looked sheepishly through his eyelashes, trying to make Marianne feel pity for him.

\- Always. – said Marianne, without skipping a beat, not out of pity but something else. – You are always welcome wherever I am.

\- But should we try…?

Marianne opened her eyes widely, catching on to what Connell was trying to say. She then bit her lip forcefully, to stop herself from laughing out loud. Connell would surely misinterpret if she burst out laughing while he was asking if there was still the opportunity for them to be. There would always be an opportunity, as far as she was concerned.

\- We should always try. – said, Marianne.

\- Are you serious? I feel like I know you so well but then, I don’t know. – Insecurity poured out of his voice.

\- Serious as I can ever be.

\- That’s very serious. I hope you know that. – Connell said in a more playful tone.

\- I know that. – a smile escaped Marianne’s lips.

– When would you come home?

Funny how the word _home_ traitorously escaped her mouth, she wanted to say, “when would you come to Dublin?” but her brain also knew that Connell was coming back to her, and in his arms was where she felt more at home than anyplace else.

\- Probably sometime in next month, I still have to finish up a few things over here.

\- Will you miss it?

\- It?

\- Being acknowledged for your work, living in a big city like New York where everything is possible, I don’t know… those kinds of things.

Connell paused for a bit, not really thinking about the answers but contemplating how she would never know how much he really missed her. A city could never give him the rush that travelled down his spine every time she would look at him and _see_ him.

\- I mean, I don’t think so. I would like to show you around sometime, maybe. But I’m coming home. That is enough.

\- Don’t you think that you are settling for less than you deserve? It will probably be a bit more difficult to make a career out of writing in Ireland. I really don’t want to be the cause for it. You would be forever affected by this decision.

\- I know what I need, Marianne... and it’s Ireland and you. – he said solemnly.

\- I would never want you to hate me... I really don’t. Please understand this.

Connell despised his decisions and the Atlantic Ocean right now, the only obstacle that stopped him from touching her hand reassuringly, making her really understand that he would not regret this. Coming home was more than overdue.

\- I could never hate you, Marianne. Never. Even when you did hate me, I never hated you.

\- How can you say that? Affirm something so categorically?

\- There are things that I know that are certain. That it’s always different with us. That I miss you. And also my _mam_. And you, for the most part. Also, New Yorkers are wankers.

She knew he was serious and laughed with the last comment he made. It was true. He was coming home. To her.

\- No more running around in circles.

\- No.

They both smiled foolishly at each other through their computer screens. Connell was feeling a bliss like never before: the string that joined them together (but never at the same time and space for long) was going to finally disappear. This was the beginning of the rest of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this is my first fanfic, I hope you liked it. Please comment below what you thought or if you feel like this has the potential to become a series!


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